Chapter Text
Jeongin leaves the dining room.
There, Hyunjin and Chan are having a conversation that sounds like an argument, about everything that has been upsetting Hyunjin lately. People saying upsetting things, the dancer letting their words get to him, the resulting emotions making him lash out at everything and everyone for days. The leader tries to reason with him, make him see his worth and convince him to ignore the opinions of people who don't matter. Hyunjin revisits an earlier point in their discussion, three left turns and a mile back from the progress they had been making, frustrated words leaving his lips.
Last week Jeongin had witnessed the start of it all. Complaints, cries, consolation. A repetitive, tiring cycle for everyone involved.
He tries to give his own input when he can, saying encouraging words and bringing up facts when Hyunjin gets defensive.
Even just now, he had mentioned how Hyunjin claims to not be affected by what certain people say, but if one person hadn't said a specific thing, Hyunjin wouldn't have skipped the outing he had been excited for that same day.
Chan had agreed with Jeongin. Hyunjin, as usual, seemed to tune him out, lost in his own thoughts of insecurity and irritation.
Jeongin tries not to fault him for it; Hyunjin tends to let others sway his opinions and influence his decisions.
It does not make it any easier, though. Days have passed but his hyung still has the same emotions. Everyone involved seems drained from simply existing in the same space as him during these conversations.
Denying how tiring it is would be lying.
Jeongin himself has problems he has to suppress, lest he takes the attention off of Hyunjin. That in itself would lead to more emotions, talking, and nights of staying up trying to console him.
His problems include not being old enough to lecture his hyungs or give them advice, the weight of work, wondering if his own flaws will drag down the team, and most importantly, his health.
For over a year now, his entire body has been itchy. Everywhere, everyday, constantly. Half the time nothing is visible on his skin. On rare occasions, he can see tiny bumps, sometimes redness, sometimes more swelling. On bad days they flare up into hives. On good days the itching is subtle enough for him to ignore it. It never truly goes away. Allergy medication fails to help. He has no food allergies. The one specialist he was supposed to see only seems to be free when Jeongin has schedules to go to, the timings never matching up enough for him to figure out what the hell is going on with his body.
At first, he used to let his members know whenever his skin acted up, trying to convey exactly how frustrating it was to always be itchy, distracted and unfocused. He had lost sleep over it, being woken up by fire and ice and prickling sensations multiple times in the dead of night, and it had been affecting his work as well. As the months passed he realized he could only tell his members so many times before they would tire of his incessant complaints. So, he stopped.
Apart from the times he scratches himself in front of them, or the random "are you still itchy?" from one of the members that always gets answered in the affirmative, he stays quiet and resigns himself to dealing with it on his own, too tired of being sick and tired to even try to book his own appointments anymore. He never gets the answers he needs.
At the moment, the itching and the talk in the dining room are too much for the maknae to handle. He heads to the bathroom, grabbing his towel on the way. He needs to go about his nightly routine and get some sleep.
He locks the door behind him and tosses his towel onto the counter, still standing as he rests his head there. He tends to do this a lot when he wants to wallow in his emotions, or press pause on life when it moves too fast for him, although more often than not his cheek stays pressed to the cold, stiff marble of the sink counter without the towel to cushion it.
He cracks a smile, swallowing down bitter laughter. These days, it feels like no one is listening to him. No one notices his struggles.
Then his body lights on fire, a flaming itchiness spreading over the entirety of his skin at once. He recognizes it as one of his worse flare-ups. A Bad Day. It siphons his energy, squeezing the breath out of him. In that split second, his facade cracks.
He slips.
"Lovie, 'm itchy," he mumbles, no longer able to stave off his emotions. Tears fill his eyes and spill out onto his towel, the rough material pressing into his cheek.
He has no Lovie, or Dada, or Papa, or any of the names he comes up with for faceless caregivers.
"No wanna."
He wants to feel okay again inside. Not this. The urge to self-soothe intensifies and he bites down on his towel. His tears seem to suck the hydration from his mouth, leaving it dry and aching.
As much as he wants to be alone to keep this side of himself hidden from view, he longs for someone to come and guide him through the stormy winds his mind is caught in. He is averse to touch, disliking physical contact with others and the ticklish sensations that accompany it, yet he still wants the satisfaction of knowing that someone is there for him.
He just wants to be held.
A few seconds later he recognizes the fuzziness in his head to be that of his headspace. He sinks to the floor, as he usually does when he locks himself in the bathroom when he feels small, and shoves a small fold of his towel into his mouth to muffle his cries. They come out too calmly, unlike the meltdown he wants to have from mental exhaustion. He knows he has no time for it, not at 11:30pm when he has a schedule to wake up at 7am for. Some time to regress could help him release everything he has held back for ages, however, it would be at the expense of his own sleep. Either way, being well-rested would not be a box checked off in the morning.
Unless he lets himself stay little until he falls asleep.
He can't.
The other members do know about his age regression. He could potentially regress around them, except he has never felt ready to do so. Especially because of Hyunjin.
How ironic, considering Hyunjin is partly the cause for his current distress.
He had found out accidentally, while closing the gallery app on Jeongin's phone after the maknae had shown him a few pictures and gotten busy while he had kept swiping. The phone notes app had opened automatically as the next app that had been in use, causing Hyunjin to read one of the journal entries Jeongin had been editing. The paragraph had led Hyunjin to confront the maknae, asking too many questions about what age regression was, why he did it, why he was hiding it, how it worked. The dancer may have been understanding and supportive of the matter, going so far as to do his own research on it, but the fact still remained that he had found out without Jeongin telling him first. That choice had been taken from him, and Jeongin does not think he could ever feel comfortable with regressing around him in particular.
Following the incident, Jeongin had confessed to using the coping mechanism to the rest of his teammates. He had been ready to tell them then, and was met with love and support, along with the affirmation from Hyunjin that his coping method was normal, not at all weird.
Still, Jeongin does not have the courage to let himself be so vulnerable in front of them. The topic has not been brought up since that day. He doubts if anyone still remembers.
He calms down after a brief minute of crying, light panted breaths escaping his parted lips once he pulls off of his towel. He lifts his head and hugs his knees to his chest, putting his cheek on his knee. The overwhelming urge to cry has passed. He can now sense the roughness of the fabric against his cheek and the icy tiles beneath him.
He leans back and wipes his eyes, glancing up at his surroundings.
Locking himself in and sitting on the bathroom floor while regressed is all too familiar for him. The small space helps him feel secure in a strange way - there are no people around to bother him or witness him like this, and the counter and objects look much higher than they actually are from the floor. It helps him stay small despite his body reminding him that he is not so tiny in reality, adult-sized legs sliding out so he can sit in a more relaxed manner and his undiagnosed skin issues reminding him of how much body he really has.
He hears Hyunjin sob on the other end of the door. When did he enter his room? His hyung's cries make guilt pool in his stomach as he eases out of headspace. He thinks he is stable. Not okay, but stable. He should be fine anyways, Hyunjin needs the attention and support. He can manage on his own.
His reflection appears in the mirror as he pushes himself off the floor. He examines it, noticing how his lips naturally fall into a frown, quivering involuntarily. He tries to ignore Hyunjin's cries from outside as his own eyes redden again and his body shivers, from the sheer stress of having to venture out and see Hyunjin before going to sleep.
He regrets coming over to escape the suffocating silence of his empty dorm in the first place. His other dorm members are still at work, leaving him alone in their four room apartment to stew in his emotions there. All he wants is company, not to break down in this dorm where people can hear him.
He sighs and goes about his washing up routine. It takes some time for the redness to leave his eyes and his trembling to cease.
Then he hears Chan's voice in the bedroom and more tears and mutters from Hyunjin.
He almost laughs. Hyunjin is throwing a temper tantrum and he's the age regressor.
Why, why, why oh why did he decide to sleep with his Hyunjin hyung? For the secret cuddles he would never admit to needing? For the comfort he so desperately wanted from someone, anyone? It is too late to say he changed his mind and wants to sleep in the bed of another member. Sleeping with Chan means being coaxed into blurting out his thoughts. Jisung and Changbin are still on their way home. He has no choice.
He sneaks over to the kitchen to delay having to see the others. The twisted ache of tears returns when Hyunjin's raised voice meets his ears. Chan's soothing voice reasons with him.
He hates how he can physically feel his emotions. Two sips of water douse the burn in his chest, steam fogging up his brain. He longs for peace.
At last, his hyungs' voices grow distant as they move to another room to continue their chat. Jeongin takes the opportunity to curl up in bed, with a stuffed animal between his legs and another hugged to his chest. He squeezes his arms tight, trying to ignore how his head is stuffed with hot steam and tired cotton and grey smoke suffocating him with self-doubt and hopelessness.
He curls his fingers around the edge of his blanket and tucks himself in, bringing his covered fingers to his lips. His middle finger rests against his front teeth and his eyes close. He has to be big, pretend to not be touch-starved or affected by forgetfulness and ignorance.
Falling asleep is a struggle. He mouths at his fingers and wishes for a better day to come.